Standing in front of a million doors
by la-perla's mermaid
Summary: In a hallway located between infinity and despair, beyond the world he considered real, Michael Westen had a meeting with his own father. Sorry for the glitch with chapter 2 i fixed it already, thanks for letting me know!
1. Chapter 1

Staring at a million doors.

Author's note: I don't own any of the characters and I'm not making any money so please don't sue. One thing I want to make clear is that it is not my intention to mock or insult any religious belief, this is just for fun.

…..

Drowning is not a nice way to die, assuming there is any. As the thick swamp water keeps pulling me down below the surface my mind gets hyperactive and points out all the little details that if noticed before would have saved me from my current predicament.

Sam asked me to help him save Elsa's son, he got in trouble with the wrong kind of people, again. This time the thugs realized it was better to kidnap him and ask Elsa for 15 million dollars in ransom instead of just beating the kid up. Now Elsa was more than willing to pay the sum even when she had to borrow some of it, she wasn't as rich as they thought.

All we needed to do was to make sure the exchange went smoothly, in spite of the fact that Sam really wanted to punish those criminals for causing so much anguish to his lady friend. I convinced him that it would be safer to play by the rules and not try anything stupid until the kid was out of danger and then there would be enough time to play vigilante. Fiona was exited with that prospect since she had a few new weapons she really wanted to try up.

It all seemed to go well at first, the kidnappers told us to leave the money near a small marina in the glades. Me and Jesse would deliver the money and get Evan while Fi and Sam would stay hidden in case we needed back up. Before we dropped the bag I received a call telling me the boy was in a small cabin not far from there, next to the shore. I installed a tracker on the money in case they neglected their part of the deal. This is one of the details I should have noticed before, these men seemed professional which was a good sign, but why would they choose a place so inconvenient? The location was far from roads and the small marina was difficult to access, how were they supposed to escape? This was nonetheless a perfect place to kill someone and go unnoticed, another detail that passed right through me.

We found the spoiled brat tied up in the cabin, I only had a few seconds to get him and Jesse out of there before the bomb located in the far corner in the right exploded. The last memories in my mind are Jesse running ahead of me with Evan in his arms while I jump right above them so I could absorb most of the impact. Jesse landed on the shore but the shockwave hit me harder and sent me right into the swamp, to make things worse a large piece of rotten wood from the destroyed cabin hit my back and head knocking me unconscious. How humiliating was to know that I would die drowned in a pool of water 6 feet deep because the numbness that invaded me forbid my arms to obey the command from my brain to move and swim out of there. It was fast; my respiratory system didn't put up a fight as I couldn't stop it from swallowing that filthy dark water.

I see the famous tunnel of white light, at the end of it there is a white door. I can't help wondering what will be there for me behind it. There were many times in my life when I was sure the one waiting for me in the other side had red skin, a pointy tail and a pitchfork; yet on other occasions I hoped for something better, redemption.

When the door opens and I step inside all I feel is… disappointment. Behind that door is a very small dark grey room with nothing more than a chair and a table. The walls are filled with mold with the bricks exposed and smell of humidity and decay, the only light source in the room is a light bulb suspended by the ceiling that throws sparks threatening to burn down the whole place.

Sitting in that old wooden chair was my father, Frank Westen. Looking much older than I remember him, he's wearing old sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt and he's doing what he always did while living, drink. The only thing on the small table is an almost empty bottle of scotch and a plain glass; he pours all the remaining content on it and swallows, right after that the bottle magically fills itself again.

-"Hey son, long time no see."- He gives me a pathetic smile while offering me a glass of scotch.

I find the idea of drinking with him disturbing; when I was growing up he tried many times to turn me into an alcoholic just like him. To this day I enjoy alcohol once in a while especially around Sam but I'm proud of the fact that I never fell into any vice. I understand now that booze was a mere device to bond, especially between men and when I drank with Sam it felt like bonding while drinking with my father felt like corruption. Then I realize I'm dead and toss that reasoning aside and I do take the drink.

I will never see Sam, mi mother or Jesse again, Fiona's face imprints on my mind and I know she will be the one I'll miss the most. The liquid goes smoothly down my throat "_just like all that swamp water did"_ my mind reminds me,but it tastes awful, like the worst brand ever produced. The mild dizziness of inhibreation hits me hard and seconds later it goes away leaving me with a feeling of withdrawal, he offers me a refill which I refuse knowing how awful must be to live in constant addiction to something so distasteful.

I look at that tall old man and I can't believe it was him the one I had feared all my childhood, how is it possible that a twerp like that could cause all my family such torment? He doesn't look like the notorious bastard that beat me up on regular basis while growing up; he looks like a helpless geezer. I confront him like I did many times before:

-"So this is it, this is hell."- I say bitterly

-"What makes you say that?"- He asks sheepish while pouring himself another drink.

-"I'm stuck with you in a small, broke down and boring room, that's how I know I'm in hell."- I sigh in despair.

I should have known it wouldn't involve pitchforks and fire, no that would be too easy. Hell is not about pain because I'm pretty sure I could get used to it, after all I felt it most of my life. Hell is about monotony and the prospect of doing nothing for the rest of eternity with no company other than an excuse of human being like Frank and no more comfort than an ugly bottle of whisky. I throw several punches at the door as I try to open it but nothing happens.

-"First of all this is not your room it's mine, if you wanna get out of here I suggest you try turning the handle of the door instead of punching at it and second the afterlife is not as simple as you think"- He growls with the menacing tone he usually used before he removed his belt, but it doesn't scare me anymore I'm a grown man trained in combat now who could beat him to death if he weren't dead already. He smiles at me with a deviance I haven't seen in a while and I know it's his anticipation for my grief, he usually smiled that way when I was little and he knew what was coming but I didn't.

-"If you think my room is bad, wait until you see yours"- He mocks me as I leave the room.

Outside there is an infinite hallway with a million old grey doors, the place is even in worse shape than the room, there is little lightning provided by defecting lights that give the entire place a morbid greenish look. Frank walks ahead of me through that hallway and explains.

-"Most people think that when you die there are only two destinations, one gate that leads you to hell and another that leads you to heaven, some people think there's a third that leads you to the purgatory. In reality the afterlife is filled with gates, one for every person. You see hell and heaven are a black and white concept that doesn't apply to a species that develops constantly in several shades of grey; each door is a mere reflection of the life you led."- Oh yes, dad got a little philosophical after a few drinks, when he was in a good mood.

-"Still we are in hell, I doubt heaven would neglect maintenance this badly"- I mock in an attempt to block out the dread of what was to come.

-"Do you really thought you would go to a place filled with soft puffy clouds and big butt angels? Did you think you could hurt and kill like you do and still see Saint Peter's face?- He chuckles and shakes his head, my rage takes control over me and I punch him in the face, he falls down by the force of the blow but quickly raises to his feet laughing. –"Just so you know there is no such thing as physical pain in here, go ahead beat me up all you want I won't feel a thing."-

He was right and I hated him because of it, all the times I did wrong to others I thought it was still right because I did it for the greater good, but evil is evil and there are no excuses for it. Not only I hurt my enemies but I also damaged the ones I love. The face of Nate as he told me how scared he was when the bullet pierced right through him, my mother's cries when I told her the awful news, the permanent dread in Fiona's face when she was in jail, the betrayal in Jesse's eyes after he knew it was me who burned him and the look in Sam's eyes as I pointed a gun at him. Not only I realize I belong here but that if I got here sooner all the people I care about would've had a better life, in the case of my brother he would still have a life.

-"You are right Frank; I belong in here as much as you do, are you happy now?"- I lash out to him forcing my voice not to break, he opens one of those million doors and I step inside my room.

My room is much bigger than my father's. It looks like a presidential suite with a large bed, a couch and a large table with three chairs. I even have a large window but all I can see is grey fog. Nonetheless the room has fallen into a deep decay, the plaster from the walls is falling and the baroque wooden furniture lost some lairs of veneer and has several cracks on it. I see one of the paintings right above my bed, a grotesque scenery of dead children along with their families, I recognize those faces as Larry's victims, the ones I could have saved if I stood up to him sooner.

So hell is not about monotony, not my hell at least, it's about constant recrimination and the guilt that comes with it.

-"Hey bro, long time no see"- A familiar voice says behind me, I turn to see my brother Nate, he has that friendly smile on him that I didn't know I would miss so much. I hug him tight crying of joy, never thought you could do that in hell. Maybe you can't feel any physical pain but the feel of warmth on the solid body in my arms is as nityd and real as if we were alive. With tears in my eyes I tell him how sorry I am for getting him killed, he hugs me back and tells me over and over that it was not my fault.

-"What are you doing here Nate?"- I say once the initial emotional wave rolls out, he is a good man he doesn't belong here.

-"Same as you I guess"- He shrugs; I stare at him in disbelief. He looks at me sadly and confesses –"I've done some things I'm not proud of, so I earned a stay in "motel shithouse" but I gotta say your room is so much better than mine, even in hell you get VIP treatment"- He tries to laugh out of it but I refuse to believe it, I have to push further.

-"What could you've done to deserve this? Please don't tell me all those bible fanatics were right and the only way to go to heaven is being a prude or something, you don't deserve to be here like me or Frank"- I point at the pathetic idiot standing at the doorframe on my room.

-"I got involved with the wrong crowd growing up; I had so much to prove Michael, to them and myself. I hurt a lot of people and you never knew about it but…"- He turned his head face down, couldn't look at me in the eyes during his confession –"I killed people too bro and never got caught, but unlike you I didn't do it for the government. I lived my life in a selfish way I can see that now, the only good things that came out of me were my son and the few jobs I helped you out with"-

It breaks my heart to hear him say that, he's not a bad man just a confused kid that made some bad choices, I heard rumors of his activities from before I was burned but refused to believe them. There has to be a way out of this place, I deserve this punishment but I will not let my baby brother spend the eternity in here.

-"We need a plan to get out of here, there has to be something we can do or someone to talk to"- I say entering in combat mode again.

-"This isn't one of your jobs Michael, you have nothing to offer in here and all your kick ass abilities are useless. I don't know where we are but I do know we cannot fight our way out of this one, fighting is what got us here on the first place."- Nate tells me sadly.

-"Listen to your brother Michael, he knows what he's talking about"- Frank says swinging his full glass of scotch.

-"Shut up Frank! You know what? I might have to put up with a lot of torments in here but I'm sure you are not one of them. Get out you fucking bastard! Out of my room!"- The voice that comes from my lips doesn't sound mine; I seldom feel the rage that invades me in here. I'm dead and in hell, ergo I got absolutely nothing to lose so I can be as irascible as I want, there's no need for self control anymore.

-"No Michael let him stay; there are some things he needs to tell you. It's not Satan or a preconception of hell that keeps you in here; you are trapped by your own guilt and grudges. If you want to set your soul out of this torment you have to forgive the ones that hurt you and maybe then you can begin to forgive yourself. I forgave him bro; for all that he did to us."-

-"WELL I DON'T! It's easy for you to forgive and play nice with him you didn't get the worst of it, I DID! You hid behind me while ma cuddled by your side and he beat the shit out of me! There was no place to hide and nobody I could trust, all I could do is prepare for the next blow and pray to whoever was out there to end this pain, but guess what baby brother it never happened. Nobody saved me I saved myself."- I shake with rage; all my emotional scars are on raw flesh and bleed without control.

-"You remember all the times I hit you right? But you don't remember the times I saved you. When you die there are only a few pieces of you that remain in the ones you leave behind, now you remember your brother as an angelical martyr and me as a deviate bastard."- My father says containing his tears –"When you were thirteen you pissed off a guy that worked for the mob when you started dating his sister. You know he wanted you dead so you came to the only person you thought was even meaner than him, me. I told you I would take care of the problem and so I did the guy never bothered you again. Yes I was a bastard but when things got really nasty I was the one you came to and I always delivered!"- He drew a shaky breath as he finally broke down in tears –"Right now son things are getting nasty, worse than you think. You can hate me all you want but as many times before I will be the one that saves your ass. I don't ask for your forgiveness all I want is a little time alone with you"-

I throw myself on the bed, close my eyes and feel drained, a mild dizziness takes over me and if I listen closely I almost hear whispers inside my head. Buried in the deep of my subconscious was the side of Frank that was rarely seemed, the man that could save you when the situation was desperate. He would recriminate you for an eternity afterwards but in the moment of the truth he would be there for you. Nate is right, Frank hurt me but I also hurt the ones I love, if he doesn't deserve forgiveness neither do I.

I open my eyes and find my father sitting on the table, instead of a bottle of scotch in front of him there is a chess game. Nate is already gone. –"Come play with me Michael, one last time."- Frank has that pathetic smile on his face again but his eyes show a vulnerability I never saw before. I used to play with him against my will when I was little, he gloated on how many times he could win in spite of being drunk, and sometimes the mental exercise was foreplay for another beating. This time I don't dread what would come out of this exchange and try to adjust to the idea of forgiving him, even if I put my will into it doesn't seem easy.

-"Listen up Michael because time is running out; see how my tower pulled a check mate? That is because you were so busy fighting with the horse that you neglected your queen and king therefore it was easy for me to win the game. You got focused chasing over the figures of little importance when you should set your eyes on my king because he is the one calling the shots, get the king and the game will be yours"-

-"What do you mean time is running out? I've got all freaking eternity! And I didn't even move a single piece on the board"- It's hard for me to focus with all those voices in my head, they started out as whispers but now they are getting louder, I even feel disconnected from myself now as if I'm disaperaing.

-"You're missing the point!"- He said looking at the window.

I turn to look the window and notice how the fog clears away, golden sunrays burst through the dark grey fog and a summer breeze hits my face. The voices inside my head grow even louder and this time I can even understand what they say. "Michael please breathe! Don't let me down" I recognize Jesse's voice, he sounds desperate. The breeze turns into a forceful wind that blows me out of the room, the air pushing me turns solid and takes a human male shape. This figure hits me hard on the chest and puts his lips over mine, I try to fight it off but he is too strong. The lips are not prodding for a kiss, they are blowing air into my lungs and it hurts as I never hurt before. Jesse, I know it's him. I hear his desperate shouts and feel his hands crushing my ribs, his cruel lips thrust into mine and another rush of hot air fills my lungs.

It hurts to come back, much more than to die. A single hard blow lands over my beaten chest and I can't help coughing a mouthful of muddy water, strong hands turn me on my side to help me cough and vomit. Every nerve ending cry in protest, it feels wrong to be alive reviving is much more traumatic than hell itself.

When I open my eyes even the light of day seems invasive, Jesse's face appears in front of me; his eyes show despair, hope and more joy than I could describe. He looks like a man who saw the greatest miracle ever imagined, his hands grab my face and his words are so fast and tainted with emotion I don't understand what he's talking about. Behind him is Evan looking terrified at what is happening behind him, the ring of shots crowd the air. I will have time to ponder on my death experience later on, now I have to save my friends.

Jesse helps me to stand up and I ask him for a weapon.

–"You're in no shape for a fight Michael"- He sounds so worried but at the same time he knows he can't make it on his own

-"We have no choice unless you think Evan is prepared to cover for you until you get to the car"- I tell him trying to hide the fact that breathing is a daunting task in my condition.

-"I'll do it if I have to"- Evan says looking determined, he has nerve, who knew.

-"Jesse get to the car and take the weapons below your seat, we will cover for you. Once you get the weapons you will open fire on our targets so we can get in the car then we'll go for Fi and Sam. Are we clear?"- It hurts so much to talk right now, I don't even know if I will be able to stay on my feet let alone run dodging bullets. I remind myself to stop whining and get on the task at hand; my friends need me so I better suck it up.

Jesse nods in blind confidence and I know I have to live by his expectations, one day I will die for my missions, ideals or any of my friends… but not today.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I knew it would go from bad to worse once I saw that bomb in the far corner of the cabin. I barely had time to grab Evan when Michael pushed us away; we jumped out of it in the nick of time.

Even after I felt the hot force of the shockwave I did underestimated the power of the explosion so it wasn't until much later that I considered the possibility of something gone really wrong. I woke up on the shore feeling like a truck ran over me several times, the scars on my body told me we were too close to the explosion. Evan was still shaken from the impact, I noticed by the way he gingerly rose to his feet but aside from that he seemed to be in one piece.

-"You okay?"- I asked him, the boy nodded trying to look tough; he was doing his best to hide his fear.

–"You've seen Michael?"- I said scanning my surroundings when I noticed he wasn't around, he was next to us when the explosion went off he couldn't be that far. In the distance I heard gunshots, presumably of a large caliber and it was easy to predict that very soon our enemies would be close by. I had to get Evan out of the open space were we would be sitting ducks and find shelter in the trees not far away, but right before I could sprint to safety I noticed something below the water near the shore. In the dark swamp laid the body face down of Michael with a red stain of blood floating around him.

My military trained mind told me to run away and get the civilian out of danger, the bullets were about to reach us and all I had to defend myself was a 9 mm and a back up 22 caliber. Michael was probably dead and if I tried to save him I would waste precious time and all I will accomplish is to get the rest of us killed.

My body didn't get the message because it ran at the swamp and tore Michael out of the mud, I swing the limp form over my shoulder not knowing whether he's alive or not. As soon as I got out I had to start dodging bullets because of the time I lost, some bullets grazed my arms and legs until I make it to the thick jungle foliage.

-"We have to get outta here! Keep running!"- Evan said scared and ran off, my survival instinct begged me to follow him and I would if the person over my shoulder were breathing.

I lowered Michael on the ground and took his pulse; there wasn't even a hint that showed his heart was still working. Michael's eyes were half open and devoid of any sign of life, on my experience in the battlefield I've seen death more times than I would like and the expression on his face left little doubt. "How long was I out? How much time did Michael stay in that swamp?" my mind filled itself with useless questions while my arms began the CPR.

There was a battlefield behind me, Sam and Fiona were leading some of the shooters away from us but plenty of them remained. Evan came back to get me but I refused to quit on my task, I could never gather the courage to tell my friends Michael died and face the look of hurt and disappointment on their faces, so to me it made a lot more sense to just try harder.

Blowing air into his lungs I couldn't help noticing his skin was ice cold and the sound his ribcage made as I compress them wasn't normal. Evan begged me to run with him but I barely paid any attention. I was focused on a simple task, to save Michael's life and not get killed trying. Only the individuals who ever performed CPR know how exhausting it can be, my own heart begun to feel as if it pumped battery acid and my muscles were on fire. Seconds passed away like eons and as time goes by, the fact that my friend is dead begins to sink in. I begged Michael to get up and swear that if he came out of it I'll make him pay for the anguish he put me through. In a final act of despair I threw a forceful blow aimed right at his heart and the impossible happened. He revived coughing out all the water he swallowed.

There is a difference between saving a life and bringing someone back from death, I felt in that moment the certainty that nothing is impossible and that miracles do happen, it is by far the most wonderful rush I ever experienced. I helped him stand up and as soon as he's staggering on his feet he asked me for a gun. To this day I'm sure he was insane. He was dead a minute ago and now he wants to start shooting again.

–"You're in no shape for a fight Michael"- I told him with the hope to get some reason into that stubborn head of his.

-"We have no choice unless you think Evan is prepared to cover for you until you get to the car"- It was ridiculous to hear those brave and confident words out of a man that could barely breathe but I'm afraid he was still right.

-"I'll do it if I have to"- Evan said looking determined, there's hope for the boy I'll give him that.

-"Jesse get to the car and take the weapons below your seat, we will cover for you. Once you get the weapons you will open fire on our targets so we can get in the car then we'll go for Fi and Sam. Are we clear?"- His orders would have sound much more believable if he weren't so pale and struggling to stand on his feet. But he managed to stand a little taller, there was no way I made it to the car alone much less if I carried Michael's heavy weight on my shoulders so I have no choice but doing what he says. Besides, after what had just happened I believed in miracles.

I gave him my gun and I ran at the car with no more protection than my spare but to his credit Michael held on and managed to give me an effective cover. I get in the back seat of the car and find Fiona's latest toys, the bazooka in the middle of the mountain made of AK 47s and C4 seemed exaggerated at first but in a situation when your enemies outnumber your allies a little shock and awe can be useful.

I saw through the scope a cluster of seven men with large weaponry closing up on Michael and Evan, I aimed at them and managed to hit on my mark before they got too close, by the time the dust cleared away the three of us were on the car to pick up the rest of our team.

Sam and Fi were still shooting at the remaining men and by the looks of it we made it in time because they seemed to be running out of ammo, four against two is not a good number but when they saw the car approaching the attackers run away. Our friends climbed into the back seat as I drove towards the main road only to realize the four men weren't running away they were heading to their van and now they were right behind us. They started shooting at our car aiming at the gas tank, Michael took some C4 and threw it right below the enemy's car and set off the explosion sending shards of metal all over the road.

-"This isn't a kidnapping it's a trap! They were in for the kill!"- Sam said angry

-"We have to get back and see if any of them made it out alive, we need to know who is behind all this"- Michael told me while he looked for a suitable weapon.

-"And you said I packed too much, if had come with less guns we wouldn't made it out of here"- Fiona teased Sam, she always looks happier when holding large weaponry.

-"Yes I admit to be glad you're a psychotic terrorist"- Sam spat back

I saw another black van heading our way and opening fire, they were too many there was no way we could go back but thank god for Fiona cause we have enough firepower to overcome them, she chuckles as she aims the bazooka at the second van and blows it away.

….

It was past midnight when we arrived to Michael and Fiona's loft. Sam took Evan with his mother and made sure they both left Miami for a while, until everything cleared up.

After we had a reasonable certainty that the worse had passed I told Sam and Fiona about Michael's cardiac rest, he tried his best to take importance out of it but the fact was that he still looked like crap. I suggested we took him to the hospital but thought better of it when Sam said I didn't look so hot either and if he needed to go so should I.

Sam tended to Michael's head wound disinfecting it as thoroughly as possible, he told me I cracked two of his ribs during the reanimation so he will need to stay out of trouble for a while. Since we both had open wounds and dragged ourselves through the jungle he gave both us tons of antibiotics.

Meanwhile Fiona stitched my wounds from the shards of wood and the bullets that grazed me. Every time she was near I couldn't help shivering inside at the feel of her warm touch, as I couldn't also help to feel a violent pang of jealousy every time she stole a glance towards Michael. Her deep green eyes were so filled with care and concern, when I told her he had been so close to death I could almost see how her knees buckled, she barely managed to stand on her feet. Maybe in another life, she told me once when I managed to let her know how I felt; I have dreamt of that parallel universe many more times than I would like to admit.

An hour later Michael was in bed asleep, it would take some time for him to recover. Sam and Fiona decided to get to the streets and find more information on our attackers before the trace went cold. Fiona suggested I stayed on the loft and kept an eye on Michael in case his condition worsened.

It wasn't the real reason I was left aside, truth is that I was in a bad shape too and at that moment I wasn't in the best condition to fight. The adrenaline that kept me going was fading fast and the excessive stress and exhaustion begun to take its toll on me, so I stayed quiet as they go.

I don't remember falling asleep but I woke up at four a.m. in Michael's couch bathed in sweat, the cold shivers running down my spine could only mean one thing, I'm running a high fever. Sam was right the wounds got infected from that filthy swamp, I got concerned about the spy sleeping above the stairs, my wounds weren't as deep as his so if I'm this sick I could only guess how bad he would be.

So when I climb up I was surprised to see Michael sitting crossed legged at the edge of his bed, he had a strange haunting smile on his face and his eyes looked glassy.

-"Hey man, you okay? Why aren't you sleeping?"- At this point I was concerned that maybe he did suffer from brain damage for the lack of oxygen.

-"I'm not tired I'm fine"- he scoffed –"I look better than you"-

I put my palm on his forehead but instead of feverish heat his skin was cold and clammy, I contemplated the idea of calling an ambulance he was pale as a corpse.

-"Jesse, why did you save me?"- He said putting my hand away

-"What?"- What kind of question is that?

-"It doesn't make sense"- He says snickering and now I'm positive that something is really wrong

-"Why do you say that?"- I decided to play along until my friends got back maybe Fiona would convince him to get medical help

-"Because you want me dead, deep down you want me to die. Not so long ago you almost achieved it but now, you had the chance and not only didn't take it but you fought hard to save me. After all not only I ruined your life but I'm standing between what you really want. So I ask again, why did you save me?"- His voice sounded so hollow and raspy it didn't sounded his

Just great, he was throwing the bullet wound on his shoulder right into my face. He's not the kind of man that holds grudges and after he came out of the hospital I assumed we were even, but now he was psychologically messed up and I guess that issue came to his mind.

-"I did that to save you from the thug behind you! How was I supposed to know you would get into a freaking car crash right after?! Yes I did swear I'll kill you but if I wanted you dead all I would've had to do is aim a few inches to the right!"- I shouted angrily, I really didn't wanna go there.

-"True if you had shot me right in the heart I would have died, but that plan had a little disadvantage. If you killed me so openly Fiona and Sam would take revenge on you, but if you faked a friendly shot gone wrong you would still be on her good side and an available shoulder to cry on, before you know it she would be yours"- He said that incendiary statement with the same calmness anyone uses to describe the weather.

I wanted to shut that petulant bastard up with my fists, to see how slick he can be without his teeth. What enraged me the most was the fact that he might be true, when he asked me for help on that bar he gave me his location and I went there not knowing whether I would help him or kill him. I still remember the repressed cold rage I felt looking at him through the scope, the man who ruined my life was being held hostage and once captured he was in for a lot of pain. I also remember debating between letting him suffer in Barrett's hands or mercifully putting a bullet in his black heart.

Then I thought of Fiona, her betrayal hurt me even more than Michael's but I was still in love with her and I could not tolerate the hate on her eyes if I killed him, so I shot him on the shoulder and bought him a chance. I didn't know he had almost died in a car crash and still had little chance of survival until the next day, but I still remember feeling glad to know that if he died I would have been responsible yet innocent at the same time. Back then I thought I had the chance to get all I wanted, my revenge and Fiona.

Now he knows it, he knows what my true intention was that day, even more than me. I have to come clean there is no point in lying anymore.

-"You are right Michael I did want you to die! I trusted you and you played me like a pawn in your cloak and dagger games. Damn right I trusted you! Like I never trust anyone else! And what is even more humiliating is that I still do, I still trust you in spite of the fact that you might betray me again anytime. Not only would I trust my life in your hands as I've done many times before but I care about you. Yes you son of a bitch I still consider you my friend in spite of all that happened"-

I ran my hands on my face in an attempt to fight the exhaustion and my rage; it is in this moment of guilt and grudge than a piece of clarity struck my mind. So I told him –"There is one thing you are wrong about, even if you died I know Fiona will never love anyone else but you. Remember when we were under siege by Vaughn in that construction building? You gave me the flash drive and told me to get out of the building with her while you distracted them. I saw it in your eyes you weren't planning to get out of there alive. You left Fiona to go with me because you knew I would take care of her for the rest of my life. Well she didn't care about your plan; she chose to face the fire by your side even if it burned both of you. She will never be mine Michael, or anyone else's."

My heart shatters in pieces when I say the last words, from the moment I met her I always had a little glimmer of hope she would love me back but in that moment all hope of a life with her died, in a way it was liberating.

I take deep breaths trying to regain control of my emotions; I don't know why Michael tried to fuck with my mind that way. He rises from the bed and walks towards me, the way he moves seems unnatural.

-"There are difficult times ahead of us Jesse, things have been going bad and will get even worse. Before you even consider joining the fight it's very important that you sort out your inner issues. Your enemies, our enemies, will use your inner grudges and insecurities against you so if you want to fight them I advise you to sort out your own conscience first"- I'm confident now that is not Michael's voice that comes out of his lips, I don't know what is real or not anymore but the man in front of me is not who he seems to be.

-"Who are you?"- I ask him in bewilderment

-"A good friend, that watches all of your backs all the time"-

And with that I woke up, Sam was shaking me and slapping my face.

-"Jesse! Can you hear me?"- His voice sounded loud and piercing

-"What happened?"- I ask him still confused

-"You fell asleep buddy and I couldn't wake you up, you're boiling up with fever. Here take this"- He said shoving some pills into my mouth and forcing me to drink water.

Pieces of the weird conversation I had with Michael crowded my memory so I went to his room to confront him, when I got to see him I realized it was all just a dream. The man on that bed didn't move since he was laid there, Fiona laid by his side gently caressing his face while holding his hand. In the end it was all about them, nothing nor anyone would ever get in between, for the first time ever I thought that was the way things were supposed to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors note: Thanks to all my reviewers and the people who read my story. I made a few hot scenes but I don't think it deserved a change in ratings, I mean there are more intense stories that are still rated T but if you think it deserves a change in rating or you would like a more explicit version please let me know.

….

I enter the loft at 8 a.m. in a really bad mood. When I packed all my new toys yesterday morning I had the feeling it would be a good day but 22 hours later Michael is alive by miracle, Jesse is not in his beast health and after canvassing all of Miami with Sam I have no clue of who is responsible for all this mess. The only information came from a few friends of mine, the men that took Evan called themselves "the Pack" (men and their silly nicknames) and they were a very effective crew. These assholes weren't cheap and were known for their confidentiality as well. Sam concluded that whoever paid them didn't need the money asked for ransom, to the point that when we came back to the swamp we found the bag and the 15 million dollars intact, which led to the obvious conclusion this had all been a trap.

The new question is: Who was the trap laid for? As any other powerful business woman Elsa could have many enemies. Evan himself might have pissed off the wrong people but if that were the case they would have killed him instead of staging a kidnap. Sam with his "endearing" ways might have gotten a few hi profile enemies as well and they might have tried to get to him through the woman he loved, but it wasn't Sam that made the hostage negotiations it was Michael, for what they knew Sam might even not be present at the time of the exchange. Leaving then the most plausible target as Michael, he has a way of pissing off powerful people and he did it so many times I'm beginning to think he was made for it.

This last option worries me, a lot. All this feuds with his invisible enemies took a toll on him and I can tell he is at the end of his rope, he literary died for crying out loud. I can't even wrap my mind around it, the thought that if Jesse hadn't try so hard on him…

-"You okay sister?"- Sam asks me as we are about to climb up the stairs, he noticed the mist in my eyes. I turn and tell him:

-"Sam you think they might be out to get Michael again?"- A few blinks and the moisture goes away, it doesn't even ruin my mascara.

-"I'm keeping Elsa out of Miami just in case but yeah I'm pretty sure they were after him"- He says looking worried and sad, his lifestyle is affecting the woman he loves, it must be hard on him.

-"I don't think he can fight this one out"- I feel so tired right now, these last few years took a toll on me as well but it wasn't my brother that bled out on the street, well at least not in front of me.

-"Neither do I but we both know he is not gonna run away or let someone else fight for him. You know how protective he's been lately, he does jobs on his own to spare you from danger and he doesn't ask me for back up either"- Sam's voice is raising due to his frustration so I tell him to lower it Michael might be listening.

-"Maybe we can play that game as well, it's going to take some time before he's ready to fight if we work hard enough we might get to the bottom of this before he recovers"-

-"Seems farfetched but worth the shot, we'll take turns watching over Mike while the other one goes for the hunt. As soon as Jesse feels better he could help us."- Sam says determined, he has more potential than he seems.

Once inside I'm greeted with the sight of Jesse laying on the couch shaking and screaming things that make no sense, we run to his side and I can feel the heat irradiating from his body. The poor man is boiling with fever; we shouldn't have let him alone with Michael he should be in a hospital.

I leave Jesse with Sam and run to my boyfriend's side when I realize whatever infection affected Jesse could take Michael as well. As I near the bed I can see how pale he is, he is so limp it looks like he could melt into the mattress; the only movements he makes are the even raise of his chest while breathing. I put my hand in his forehead and instead of heat I feel damp coldness, I hold his hand and try to wake him up but he doesn't move. When I'm about to shout to Sam to come here I see Jesse staring at us with an expression I can't describe yet I won't forget. There seems to be an acceptance in his eyes and I would ponder about it if there weren't more pressing issues such as Michael's condition.

Sam comes in just in time; I tell him I can't wake Michael up so he checks him out. He agrees with me that both men need to be in a hospital. I have to drag Jesse into my car, it's like fighting with a five year old he keeps whining and telling me he is alright. In the meantime Sam puts one hand behind Michael's back and the other one behind his knees. He lifts him up as if he were a small child, a daunting task considering how much weight Michael has in muscle mass and Sam carries in his abdomen.

Out of the blue Michael barely opens his eyes and talks to Sam

-"Daddy is that you?"- He sounds like a small child; prospects of brain damage fill me with panic

-"Its okay buddy, stay with me"- Sam answers with friendly kindness while rushing out of the loft and into my car

-"Yes I promise I'll stay. I will keep you company in hell you won't have to stay alone in that awful little room anymore. I forgive you dad, for everything"- My boyfriend babbles and falls asleep right after.

Even for someone who nearly died and is now very sick that statement still made no sense whatsoever. I only heard little pieces of his childhood through Madeline and they weren't nice stories, especially concerning his father. I never thought that Michael was the kind of man that held unnecessary grudges and neither do I; nonetheless I always thought that if someone was unworthy of forgiveness was the alcoholic asshole of Frank. I don't know where that comment came from but it scares me. Why on earth did he say he was going to hell?

There will be time for talking about it after both men are treated. I step into the driver's seat after dragging Jesse into the passenger's side while Sam goes at the back with Michael in his arms; I bury my foot on the pedals and rush off.

…..

In my nightmares I see you at the shore of that dark swamp, the sadness in your eyes compels me to go to your side but no matter how hard I try my feed sink on wet earth and I can't walk were you are. Out of the sudden 3 dark shadows come from the forest and attack you, at first you fight but you are weak and they win, you give up eventually and let them drag you into the dark waters were you will never rise again. All I can do is watch as darkness swallows you for eternity.

When I wake up you are sleeping next to me, no longer fighting nightmares but still as a corpse, you no longer have any kind of dreams.

You were released from the hospital the day after you were admitted, lots of antibiotics and rest, if treated well the infection wasn't so serious the doctors said. As if you were someone who could just lie still. At least you take your medications I'll give you that, in that aspect you are more mature than Jesse, he's been such a handful Sam had to crash on his place to take care of him.

It might be fair to say you are much better, form health at least but I'm worried about the rest of you. Your spirit is broken and all your fighting and planning seem more of a work of inertia than a real quest for answers or revenge. What happened to you in that swamp Michael? You were hurting because of your brother but if anything you were more determined to find his killer than ever, now you are not even interested in finding the motherfuckers that literary did kill you.

I must say that at first I was tired of all your ghost chasing, to me it seemed like a waste of time and energy. When your brother died I knew things would go bad and that we were too exhausted from previous battles to make a proper stand but I sucked it up because I know well what it's like to have your sibling killed and get no answers. So I you cried I'll stay by your side, if you played lone wolf I'll remind you we are a team and if you put your life into a stranger's hands in a wild search I would put my feet down and talk some sense into you, I will always back you up whether you like it or not.

For the first time since your burn notice debacle I can put myself in your shoes and understand the need for revenge, they hurt you Michael in a way I don't know I can heal back. Something in that dark water took your soul away, as if when you died your body got back to life but your spirit remained trapped in that filthy swamp. Your beautiful blue eyes are empty and there is hopelessness in your stare that fills me with despair.

It almost feels like it won't be long until you die. There is no need for you to suicide all you have to do is fight a little less, run a little slower, be a little sloppier in your plans and the bad guys will tear you apart. Right now Michael it looks like you are not fighting enough.

They deserve to suffer my love, you were right all along chasing the bad powerful guys is difficult but they just can't hurt the innocent and get away with it, we have to make them pay. I will make them pay even if it consumes all I have, even if I die trying.

I see you sleep without dreams and I can't tolerate the passiveness I sense in you anymore, you are mine have you forgotten? You don't get to give up on me; you will fight or suffer my wrath.

I reach out to touch your soft skin, your callous hands and the uneven territory of your scars. My hands are demanding impatiently what your illness has denied me in the last few days, they rub at your skin without mercy and they won't stop until the coldness of your flesh comes back to life. You wake up confused and with a polite smile you tell me it's not a good time, fuck the time Michael I'm not giving you a choice. The feeble attempts you make to dissuade me from my task are useless; my mouth traps your lips while my tongue penetrates the small space between your teeth inviting yours to play along.

-"Fiona please, not now."- I hear your faint whisper as you're still half asleep. Scream if you want sooner or later you will be mine.

I break the barrier of your privacy now and you squirm below me, you forcefully push me away but I climb back in swallowing all your complaints when my mouth thrusts over yours. I grab your flesh in an iron grip and fight all you want but I'm not letting go. Fight Michael I want you to, fight me from making love to you (even when you will lose of course but it will make things more fun) fight the bastards that killed your brother and the ones that tried to kill you. Fight them because I would rather to deal with your obsessions and justified paranoia than living in comfortable peace with the empty shell you have become.

Fight them because they can't hurt the man I love without paying a price, because I need you to help me catch them so I can feel the rush of their pain. Get up you idiot and make love to me, later on we'll stay the night up thinking of ways to achieve our revenge.

Refusal turns into anger and you fight me off, not the result I want but it's a start. Your flesh warms up and your muscles tense. I fight back and it thrills me to see the fire in your eyes ignite again, it takes time but the rage gives way to lust and I make sure my teeth draw blood into your shoulder so I can remember this moment when I see the bruise.

I win as always, your early refusal is eventually turned into a desire to fulfill my much neglected needs and I did a fine work with yours by the way. When you raise from the bed I can't help smiling when I see that muscular back stand up straight in a military fighting stance, yes my love we will take our revenge and paint the town red with fire and blood.

One last thing before we start this battle, something I think you have forgotten and if not dealt with could cause you to fall once more, because I heard you say something stupid about hell.

-"You are a good man Michael"- I say as I kiss your lips –"Don't you dare to forget that ever again"-


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up over a stack of papers at 4 am sitting over a desk; I felt Jesse's hand over my shoulder.

-"Man did you fell asleep on my desk?"- He says worried

Stretching myself with the hope of releasing some of the kinks in my sore muscles I told him:

-"Yeah, I was looking at some documents my friend from the FBI gave me. Looks like these guys specialize in privacy, they never contact their employer and manage themselves by an account in the Caiman Islands so even if we caught them they couldn't tell us who ordered the attack"- I said tired, my poor Elsa is worried sick about her son and I can't do anything to ensure she will be safe.

I've been considering breaking up from her, if my way of life caused her harm I would never forgive myself. Nate's death proved us how dangerous was to let untrained people stay too close of the line of fire.

-"its okay Sam, we'll get them. You should get some proper sleep, we'll hang out with Michael in a few hours"- Jesse seems optimistic, finally the meds are working.

I've been crashing in his place for a week now because the big former CIA agent is too much of a baby to take proper care of himself, I would love to blame him for not getting further into finding out who were the people behind all this mess but the truth is that I'm stuck at a dead end. I tried every technique below my belt but this so called pack left without a trace, not even the persuasive Chuck Finley managed to achieve usable information. Fiona did her best as well but like me she was empty handed, nonetheless she gave me good news last night, she told me Mike was feeling better.

I hate to admit it but this is the kind of trouble I need my best friend to figure out. It's a big bruise to my ego whenever I have to ask him to solve the troubles I get into. There is no doubt that I can usually take good care of myself but hard as I try I can't beat him, he's younger, in better shape and smarter than I am. Let's let something clear I'm a capable, experienced and dangerous man as well but standing next to someone like the legendary Michael Westen makes anybody look like the dumb side kick. Over the years I managed to contain the feelings of inferiority and professional jealousy that come with being friends with Mike, he is a loyal good man and I care deeply about him.

Which makes it even harder for me not being able to get the monsters behind this, he needs to rest but if we don't make a move soon they might try again and finish the job they started a few days ago.

Jesse offers me a beer but I decline, when in trouble you can't let anything like alcohols cloud your mind. Lucidity is sometimes the difference between winning and losing a battle, especially when there is so much at stake. I say my goodnight to Jesse after I see him take the antibiotics and I fall asleep in his guest room. Tomorrow things will look better in the bright light of day, they have to.

…

We get in his loft at mid morning, carrying a bag of groceries with the blueberry yoghurt he likes so much. Mickey seems like himself again and Fiona doesn't show the exhaustion she complained to me about a few days before, it seems natural when we gather around his table brainstorming to find a strategy against our enemies.

By noon we seem to have run out of ideas, far from giving up Fiona and Jesse go to by some coffee, hoping it would help us while using it as an excuse to get some air.

Michael stares at the window and seems lost in thought, his face turns a little paler and there is something strange about his eyes, I can't put my finger on it.

-"How you feeling Mickey?"- I say taking him from the window and into his room; clearly he's still sick and should get some sleep –"Lets get you some rest buddy"-

He takes my hand away and tells me –"I'm fine Sam, I was just thinking"- He chuckles to get the importance out of it and right away he gets serious –"We have gotten anywhere because we were tackling this from the wrong angle"- and then I swear I heard him mutter something like –"dad was right all along"-

-"What do you mean?"- I don't know at this point whether he just had a stroke of genius or brain damage.

-"This "pack" as they call themselves, they seem to have left Miami right? Why would they do that if it was me they were out for? Sam I don't think I was the target, I was merely a pawn and when the bomb exploded we were just collateral damage."-

-"Keep going"- I try to put the upcoming inflow of his reasoning in my head, when his grey matter get hyperactive you better brace yourself for the ride.

-"If wanted me dead they would have tried something already, besides all my past enemies wanted to use me for their own schemes I'm more worthy alive than dead. It was Evan that got kidnapped and Elsa contacted, it was her son that got in the line of fire and her boyfriend"- he said pointing at me –"that would get involved to help her. She was the target Sam; she's the one whose life they tried to ruin not mine."-

-"All right Mickey I'll play along, but who would hate her so much? She's not the kinda woman who gets in trouble with the wrong kind of people, she's honest and doesn't deal with the shady element"- If he thinks Elsa would do something illegal we are in for a fight.

He goes to his laptop and types furiously, a few seconds later he turns the screen at me –"Look at this Sam. Elsa's rival company just bought all the actions of a British enterprise that was auctioned three days ago, if she hadn't been hiding from the men that almost killed her son she would have bought it and in less than a year she would have won millions. Not only that but since she wasn't even present during this acquisition I bet investors lost some trust into her company and now her rival is at the top. Imagine if Evan had died, she would have been too upset to make a proper handling of her enterprise for months if not years, it would all be over and her rival would have no competition"-

The laptop showed the front page of a local business newspaper and the face of the man that according to Mike was responsible for all of this, Julien Noser. I believed him, deep down I knew he was right, but if that man was going to face what I had in store for him I better be certain he was guilty.

-"If you are right there will be some paper trail connecting this guy with the pack, I'll call Barry on it. Once I get the evidence I'll handle this guy"- I said already contemplating my revenge.

-"Great as soon as Fi and Jesse get back we'll…"-

-"Sorry Mike, there is no we this time, it is my lady friend on the line now so I will handle this"-

-"Sam you can't go after someone this big on your own you need us"- He gets defensive because he knows what I'm planning to do and he doesn't like it. How complicated things can be when your best friend knows you better than you know yourself.

And now I feel another face off with my best friend, we had a few over the years. Most of the times it was because we were keeping each other from making a huge mistake, I remember a time when he wanted to go all lone ranger after the men that tried to blew him out and I had to beat him out of the door until he could think straight, on another occasion he stopped me from killing the bastard that killed my friend with my bear hands.

He thinks he's stopping me from making a bad choice but the truth is that all I want is to save Mickey from another unnecessary fight, he is about to tackle something big and he will need all the downtime he can get.

Now I wish I could just fight it off this time as we had so many times before but two of his ribs were broken during the reanimation, shit I hate that word and all it implies. I don't have the finesse to control the force of my blows and if by accident I crashed another rib I would cause him an unstable thorax seriously affecting his respiratory system, which would result in yet another trip to the ER. It pains me to think about it and I would deeply insult him if I said it out loud but he is too frail for this right now.

So right now I will play a different game, I'll pretend to be persuaded by his reasonable ways and as soon as the coast is clear I'll make my move.

…

Barry gave me all the evidence I could obtain, he tracked a heavy sum of money from his account into a secret one in the Caiman's that matched the number I got from the pack. Mike thinks tomorrow I'll handle the evidence to the police so Noser will be thrown into jail.

I feel the adrenaline cursing through me; I haven't done this kinda thing well… ever. Barry is in on the plan and he is terrified. It is almost midnight and for the first time in my life I am about to kill someone in cold blood.

We are sitting in my car near a forgotten marina, close to the one where we were attacked, no surveillance cameras or any sign of civilization in miles.

-"Sam I know I owe you but this is way out of my league"- Barry was about to have a panic attack.

-"Yes you owe me! Big time. Don't worry after this one not only we're even but I'll owe you, the hard part is over you already called him right?"- I try to soothe him

-"Yes I called him and said I tracked his last financial movements, he's done several frauds aside from trying to kill you guys. I told him that if he didn't pay me a million bucks I'll rat him out. Sam how do you know he won't send someone else to meet me? What if he sends an assassin? I'll be dead before you even get to do… hum… do I wanna know what you're gonna do?"- He is shaking now; all I can do is hope that when it comes to it he'll do his part.

-"No Barry is best if you don't know, he thinks he's dealing with a blackmail artist about a few minor frauds. After his last criminal activity gone wrong he'll probably try to take this matter in his own hands. I'm pretty sure he will come alone and try to kill you himself, most business criminals know that the more people is involved in a criminal activity the bigger are the chances to get caught"-

-"What if you're wrong?"-

-"Run for cover, I'll handle it"- I tell him showing the confidence I don' really feel. I'm about to kill a man using an improvised sketchy scheme and if this goes wrong an innocent man (well I'm not sure I can label Barry as innocent) will be killed. Mike will be really disappointed when he finds out; Fiona on the other hand will be pissed off because she wasn't invited to the carnage.

Too late to back down, a car pulled not far from us. I'm hidden in the back seat, Noser knows who I am if he sees me he'll try to escape. I sigh in relief when it is him the one that gets out of the car and not an assassin of sorts.

I give credit to Barry, once it's time to act he toughs out and plays his part to perfection. He doesn't wait for an introduction or small talk he simply barks: -"You got my money?"-

Noser shows him a large suitcase –"All of it, but before I give it to you, you'll tell me how did you manage to access my accounts"- He says in his petulant tone, I see the way he slowly reaches out below his designer suit and you don't need to be a psychic to know there is a gun underneath. He will try to kill Barry as soon as he knows whether there is someone else involved.

-"I have lots of experience in that matter"- Barry says coldly and my instinct tells me he might crack if this doesn't end soon.

-"You will have to be more explicit"- Noser is about to lose his patience I don't have much time, I don't need it anyway.

While the short exchange of words took place I got out of the car without making a sound, now I'm standing right behind the man that tried to destroy the woman I love and almost kills my best friend. The only sound I made was the unlocking of my gun two inches away from the back of his neck; he freezes and raises his hands.

-"Who are you?"- I can tell for the tone of his voice that he thinks he can bargain his way out of this, money will not be your way out Julien, not today.

Barry pales and slowly moves out of the way turning his back on me which allows me to work with more freedom, that's good because I don't want him to see.

-"My name is Samuel Axe, this is for Elsa and Michael"- I say right before I pull the trigger. Right until that moment I secretly hoped there would be a superior force that stopped me from doing this, but there was none of that the little piece of metal penetrated his head and lights were out.

It was quiet, unceremonious and simple. My victim fell flat on the floor with no agony whatsoever, no last words of importance and no dignity. I dragged the body into the dark swamp. As if sent from above or perhaps from down below an alligator meets me on the shore taking the body deep into the dark water, it will never rise again, not in one piece.

…..

I left Barry in his home, the only thing he said on the way back was: -"You owe me now, big time"- And he was right I did.

It is morning now and I'm using termite to burn my weapon into cinders, Michael comes into my house with Fiona and Jesse by his side. With one look at me he knows I can sense the tension around him.

Fiona makes up an excuse and drags Jesse out forcing him to buy her breakfast, to her credit she knows when to stay away from guy's issues.

-"Sam, what did you do?"- He's using that warning tone again and I feel like a chastised little boy.

-"I think you can guess Mike"- I'm playing tough but the truth is that I don't want to verbalize my actions because of guilt.

He takes deep breath not to explode in anger, he knows there is nothing he can do right now.

-"What on earth were you thinking? You could go to jail Sam and for what? We could have brought justice without breaking the law, now you have blood in your hands and that will have consequences"- The calming breaths are not working he's about to lose it.-"I knew you were up to something but I could never imagine you would kill someone like that"-

-"Quit preaching you have done it as well, many times if I'm not mistaken"- I defend myself from the guilt he's pulling out from me.

-"I THOUGHT YOU WERE BETTER THAN ME!"- He yells and it breaks my heart to see the hurt in his eyes –"What you just did I've done it more times I can remember, and for that Sam I will pay the price. But you are not that kind of man you are a better person, one thing is the battlefield or self defense but this crosses a line that should not be tampered with. You taught me that!"-

The poor guy is on a guilt trip bigger than mine; unlike him my line of work was always clear and simple. We were the good guys, the cavalry that comes out and saves the day while Mickey worked on the shadows and balanced himself within grey areas. Many times the darkness flirted with him and I had the responsibility to drag him out of it. Now I realize he looked up to me, maybe not on the technical area but as a morally better person, now I left him down.

-"It's not that far from noon buddy, why don't you go buy a few beers and we talk this out?"- I try to lighten the mood, he grumbles something about enjoying my booze while I still could cause there was no decent alcohol where we were going.

…..

By mid afternoon the beers worked their magic and loosened us up, I gave him the details and he was satisfied to know that there was no evidence around that would compromise me. He was worried about Barry but I told him he could be trusted. He decides he drank enough and would walk to the loft to clear his head, Fiona took his car anyway.

I think I was a much more drunk than I thought because I had no idea were the words in my head came from, I just couldn't stop them from blurting out of my mouth.

-"We all have a chance for redemption Michael, but it doesn't come easy for anyone, it's not granted we have to fight for it. Don't worry we'll get there eventually, all of us."- I don't know what the hell did that mean, even my voice sounded different when I said it. That's it I'll never drink again, well at least until the next weekend.

Far from freaking out he smiles at me as if he got the message, he seems liberated from a heavy burden and his face lights up in a way I hadn't seen for a long time.

All he says is –"Thank you"- and walks out of the door. -"You're welcome son"- I whisper after he leaves, again not knowing why.

THE END.

Thank you for all your reviews and it's wonderful to read "Pieces of time" while I wrote this, I think both stories had a rare synergy between them. As requested for Preeti I'll try to write an outtake from chapter 3 from Michael's POV and it will be M rated.


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